


clandestine meetings

by writerangel



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Emily Prentiss - Freeform, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Lesbian Emily Prentiss, Swearing, jennifer jareau - Freeform, other bau baddies are mentioned but are they important? no, so ya, this is what its based on, w a lil bit of illicit affairs, you know the song august by taylor swift?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:33:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27154555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerangel/pseuds/writerangel
Summary: after a few choice encounters, emily begins to fall in love, but jj might have other ideas.
Relationships: Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Emily Prentiss
Comments: 10
Kudos: 72





	clandestine meetings

**Author's Note:**

> don't mind me if i accidentally expose myself being a lw swiftie oops

After another particularly heavy case, the team was awarded with a seemingly deserved break. An entire week. Emily suggested they kick it off with a celebratory dinner at a new Italian restaurant that opened up in town. The team was all for it - right up until the last minute. Reid flew home to visit his mom, Jack suddenly fell ill, Rossi was being a grumpy grandpa, for some reason Derek and Penelope had previous plans they “just simply forgot about.” Leaving Emily with just JJ. 

“Impeccable timing, right?” JJ smiled. 

Emily huffed. “Once. Just once I wanted our time spent together not to be associated with depression and gore.” Emily hooked her arms through the sleeves of her jacket. 

“What, you don’t like having blood constantly on the mind?” Emily pushed the door open for them. JJ smirked at her own joke, humor twinkling between the pair’s shared eyes. 

“Well. Next time, I guess. Next break, whenever that’s supposed to happen.” 

JJ pressed the button to signal the elevator. “Or… we could go.”

“What?” Emily let out a sharp breath, trying to control the gay panic that was threatening to flash before her eyes. 

JJ shrugged. “Yeah. I don’t have any other plans for tonight, and it’s not like the restaurant disappeared.” 

Emily’s mouth suddenly felt very dry. But something in her, something foreign, let out a fairly quiet, “okay.”

JJ’s smile brightened, flashing her teeth this time. “Great! Meet around seven? Oneto’s, right?”

Emily nodded, “Seven’s the date.”

When Emily got home, she wanted a clone of herself to manifest so she could beat them up. _Seven’s the date._ Why would she say that? It’s not a date. It’s just two coworkers grabbing dinner after work, at a nice Italian restaurant. It’s the furthest thing from a date.

It wasn’t like she and JJ hadn’t been alone in a room together before. They had. Getting coffee refills, dropping paperwork at each other’s desks. Emily knew how to spend time with another coworker. And if there were lingering glances along the way? Well, if Derek and Penelope could flirt on the phone during work hours, then Emily could spare a few glances. She knew it was wrong, technically, to enjoy her pretty coworker, but was one really to blame her? Nevertheless, it was not a date. 

This was the mantra she told herself as she finished getting ready and the entire drive to the parking lot. She locked her car in park. _It’s not a date._ The server by the door opened it up for her. _It’s not a date._ She walked up to the hostess podium, and asked, “um, party for two? It might be under Jareau.” _It’s not a date it’s not a date it’s not a date it’s not a date it’s not-_

That’s when she saw her. JJ, was wearing a beautiful white blouse framed by the red napkins on the table. She looked like an angel, glowing in the limelight. Emily’s jaw fell slack at the mere sight of it all. Fuck, is this a date? 

JJ embodied the exact aura of that Bouguereau painting Emily loved. (The one she discovered at age thirteen whilst snooping around her mother’s office, looking for a pack of cigarettes.) All Emily managed to show up in was her long sleeved knitted v-neck. Between the panic of her internal date debate and laundry day, there was not a whole lot that Emily was left to work with. 

Emily sat in the empty seat. “You look great. Am I late?” 

JJ shook her head, “Thank you! No, of course not. You’re all fine.” 

Except Emily wasn’t all fine. She couldn’t breathe. At least not properly. Not throughout ordering, or while eating her pasta e fagioli, and certainly not when wine drunk JJ asked if she wanted to come over. Well, of course Emily said yes, she would be stupid not to. But only once she got over nearly choking to death on her Cabernet. 

JJ’s apartment was tidy and focused on muted colors. It was like walking into a person, with how very JJ it resembled. Emily’s hands were sweating. Why was she so nervous?

“I really like your apartment.” It took all that Emily could muster to not obviously let out her deep breath. How does one breathe again? 

“Thank you.” JJ dropped her keys into the bowl by the door and slipped her shoes off directly underneath the table. Emily quickly followed suit. 

“It’s so very you. Oh and the lemons are a nice mmph!” Emily’s tangent was cut off by JJ’s soft lips. It wasn’t abrupt or forceful, but it did catch her off guard. She was so hyper-aware of everything; the way their lips folded into each other, JJ’s smooth hand holding Emily’s cheek, the way the kiss silenced the rest of the world. Emily’s body was quick to react, melting into all the right crevices, eyes fluttering shut. Her hand fell immediately to the small of JJ’s back. JJ’s lips tasted vaguely of the aftertones of the night’s dinner, but also peppermint. She smelled like roses. 

Emily was all mouth, hungry for this type of loving she was needlessly wanting for weeks on end. She wanted to fill this moment up on her tastebuds, so she could relieve it over and over everytime she craved another taste. But JJ was all hands. It was as if she was trying to commit every inch of Emily to her memory. 

“Wait,” Emily painfully deparated. JJ’s eyes looked over, dazed, as she tried to blink reality back to life. “Are you sure? You had more to drink than me.”

“I’m not even drunk. Being around you just makes me giddy.

The declaration caused Emily to smile, dipping into another kiss upon JJ’s lips. It isn’t until the morning after, draped between JJ’s sheets, that Emily realizes; she can finally breathe. 

#

Emily couldn’t remember a happier time in her life. Interpol was jarring yet intangible. The only people that had your back were the same people that would drag on your tailcoat within a moment's notice. Biting necks and slicing jugulars for self advancement. It was water catching seaweed leaves. The BAU was the first solid footing Emily had gotten in forever, and JJ was her safe haven. 

The knowing glances, gleeful chuckles. The pair of them were a united front. It was hard for Emily to contain; everytime they were on a case and she had to hesitate behind jumping at the chance of her and JJ rooming together, or from spilling out all her secrets under the darkened nights of drunken confessions. (There may have also been a locked moment in JJ’s office, after hours.) Emily became a boiling pot waiting to burst. It was hard to contain the happiest she had ever been, for professionalism. But there was also a certain joy to it. She felt like she was 16, and they were running around in the streets when they shouldn't've been, sharing ice creams in the empty corner of the parlor shops, where the world starts with Emily and ends with JJ. The whole ordeal refreshed some years of youth into Emily that working at Interpol happily stripped away.

They became constantly in need for one another. Emily would send JJ a text of “im done”, signaling she was no longer spending her time with her mother, and JJ would immediately give out a “come over.” (and vice versa of course) They were magnetic to one other. It wasn't always sexual; sometimes it was just the form of wanting to be in the same room with somebody. JJ always complained that her apartment was too big for just one person, and while Emily disagreed of course, it made her gears run. She hoped to some form of higher power that JJ wouldn't be able to see it, but it was clear to her, and probably the rest of the profilers in the room. Emily was in love. 

She realized it when she woke up on August 23rd. Emily was on her stomach as she stretched her arms out to search for a warmth she had grown accustomed to. She came up empty but it was still warm, and she could faintly hear JJ’s voice. She was singing a song from a playlist Emily had played for her just last week. The memory and JJ’s singing brought a smile to Emily’s face. She turned over onto her back, eyes remaining closed, as she was caught in the mid-way point between sleep and awake. 

She heard JJ enter the room, making her lazily open an eye. “Hey,” JJ whispered to her. 

“C’mere.” Emily stretched her arms out open.

“I made you coffee.” JJ held up the cup in her hand. 

“Oh thank you. Now come here.” 

JJ set down the cup on the dresser. Then she dove onto Emily, giggling. Emily pressed a kiss onto JJ’s forehead. 

“Good morning.” Emily snaked her arms around JJ. 

“Good morning.” 

“How’d you sleep?” 

“Mm, good. Really good.” 

“How did you make coffee? The machine’s been barely assembled.” 

“I figured it out. What did you do to it anyway?” 

“Um.” The memory was clear as day in Emily’s mind. It was one of those expensive machines, a housewarming gift from her mother. Emily liked having her things simplistic and practical. Sure, maybe she shouldn’t have tried to assemble it hungover in the morning. But it wasn’t her fault her mother didn’t know her. “Just a little tinkering here and there.”

JJ nodded her head, amusedly. “Mmm. Right. So your mother got it for you.”

“What?” Emily’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Your nose always scrunches right there,” JJ tapped at the bridge of Emily’s nose. “When you talk about your mother. Also explains why I found everything tossed around.”

Emily was smitten as her bottom lip got caught between her teeth. She never really felt that four letter word for anyone else. It had been so long that she began to think there was something wrong with her, that she was broken. But now, between JJ singing Emily’s favorite tune and simply knowing her to her core, she knew. Emily was never broken; she was waiting. 

With her right hand, she brought JJ’s face up to her and kissed her. JJ’s eyes fluttered shut, the same way they had millions of time’s before. It was like she could never get used to this feeling as she kissed Emily back. But this kiss was different and they both knew it. It was slow, taking its time with each other, saying words never thought up, never uttered between the pair. 

“What was that for?” JJ asked. She had that same dreamy look in her eyes as the very first time they kissed. 

“For the coffee.” 

It was an early morning, two weeks later, when Emily decided today was the day. She was going to tell her, not everything, but some semblance of the truth. The crisp fall morning air frosted its way into the windows of the apartment with the sun shining through. With only Emily's silken sheets between them, a finger reached out, connected the freckles on JJ’s bare back like constellations. There weren’t that many, and they appeared quite faint, but a lover tends to know. If her traces tickled JJ in the slightest, she made no show of it and remained still on her side. It was when Emily traced her own name on it, that JJ turned over. 

“Good morning.” The lazy morning smile was there. 

“Hm,” Emily hummed. “How'd you sleep?” 

JJ poked her shoulder. “You know.” 

Emily let out a giggle. That she did. Steadying herself, she tucked a strand behind JJ’s ear. “I've got a question for you.”

JJ moved her hand to rest under the side of her face. “Go right ahead.”

“Move in with me.” 

JJ’s eyes flew wide, struck with shock, then immediately furrowed. Her own hand fell away, retucking the very strand Emily fixed. almost writing over it. “Oh. Um, uh, okay. Let me, let me think about that, okay?” 

Emily nodded. It was 6 am after all. Yet, the anxiety set upon her chest, making its too familiar home. She overstepped. 

Two weeks later, JJ came back with her answer. Emily came over to JJ's house this time, and they ended up sitting on the couch. This time no music in the background was playing, no Will and Grace to be binged. The silence was killing Emily from the inside out.

“I don’t know how else to say it, so I'll just get out with it. I'm seeing someone.” 

With three little words, and not the ones Emily had wanted to hear, everything had crumbled onto her. It's like when you remove the glasses for the first time and notice that they are not in fact green, but red and you’ve buried yourself in the flags. Emily felt downtrodden, and then she felt selfish for feeling as such. Technically JJ had done nothing wrong. It wasn’t like they declared themselves exclusive. Still she felt lied to. The lack of marking JJ up was not for professional purposes, like Emily originally thought, but rather the sake of another woman. 

Was it wrong for her to take this personally? Sure for some people, one person wasn’t enough to quell the ache in their heart. But for Emily, JJ was it. Emily never pressured her for a label, a defining moment, because with Emily, wanting was enough. 

“Oh.” The word came out choked from the bubble caught in her throat. She coughed to bypass it. “So, that’s where you’ve been going every other weekend?” 

“Yeah. He lives in New Orleans, actually, um-”

“Wait, he?” Emily shook her head, taken aback. Suddenly, she couldn’t see. “Is this that detective that was flirting with you? From the Danlin case?”

“Um.” For some reason, JJ looked like she was the one being uncomfortable in this situation and at a loss for words. 

“You mean I know him?” Emily let out a cold laugh. 

JJ’s hand reached for hers. “Emily, please.” 

Emily jerked up, stepping away from the couch. She shook her head, harder this time. “No. Don’t do that. Not to me.” Emily had nothing left to say. She couldn’t just stand there, loving like an idiot, while JJ was _for some reason_ crying. So she picked up her things, and left. 

#

“You deserve better,” Maritza soothed rubbing circles into Emily’s back. Emily wasn’t crying, anymore. “You deserve someone who will love you upfront.” Maritza’s words were ringing in Emily’s ears all week. Especially when she sees JJ’s sad eyes at work. She knows that JJ went away that weekend that Emily left. She had no right feeling bad for JJ, and yet. 

The worst moments of Emily’s life all happened out of her control. When the rest of the team entered the bullpen, Emily found a too familiar hand pulling her into the smallest paper closet. 

JJ snapped on the light. It’s the most JJ content she’s had since her week long boycott. She’s as radiant as ever, even under the lazy office lighting, but she looks tired. Emily is in shock. The faint smell of roses, her waves that Emily has messed up many a times before, the way the tight blazer accentuates her figure. It’s a system overload. The ringing in Emily’s ears has amplified. 

“Look,” JJ lets a deep breathe out, tucking her hair behind both her ears. The slightest gust of air jumpstarts Emily’s brain into action. She reaches forward and leans down into kissing JJ. 

JJ kisses her back. “Wait,” she manages to get out, as Emily’s mouth trails down her jaw. “Emily-”

“Shut up and fuck me like you mean it.” Emily growls. 

JJ’s eyes go wide but she gulps her words down and nods her head. 

And when they exit the paper closet, Emily realizes the ringing has stopped.

#

Was there a word to describe infinite hunger? Not to the point of starvation, but in the way one's appetite could never be fulfilled. The wanting stays. And after the point of receiving, the wanting grows.

Emily knew kissing JJ in the paper closet, not allowing them to talk things out was stupid beyond compare. JJ had wanted to deal with things in their… relationship the right way for once, and Emily should have let her. But in all honesty, Emily was too scared to hear it all. She was afraid JJ would end things and while her week away was the right thing, it hurt so bad. Why does it matter if you’re doing the righteous act if the process is undeniably painful? Maritza told Emily that she deserved better, deserved more. Emily wasn’t so sure she believed that. What made her deserve all that? Italy? Doyle? The turmoil with her mother that she worsens everyday? Emily was pretty sure that to be deserving of that kind of loving, one must live a lifetime of good deeds to earn it. 

After a case, the lead detective leaves Emily with her number. It was one of their rare ones in town and the act of it leaves the entire team whistling. But Emily doesn’t care about the entire team. She lets herself take the number and the first eyes she looks up for are JJ’s. Immediately, JJ averts her eyes, back to packing her bag to leave. That brief moment was all Emily needed to catch the emotion of it all - painful. 

“I don’t have to call her.” Emily says to JJ, once they’ve had a space to themselves. “But it would be unfair for you to stop me.” 

“I know that. I wasn’t stopping you.” JJ painted an incredulous look on her face. 

“I know. I was just saying.” 

“It doesn’t bother me if you call her.” 

“Good.” 

If JJ can be treated to her own sideshow, then Emily had every right to the same thing. But then JJ fiddles with her necklace, biting the corner of her lip. She scratches at the base of her chin, indicating to Emily that she has something to say. Emily raises her eyebrows, asking her to proceed. 

“Well, are you gonna call her?” 

That pisses Emily off. Why should JJ give a damn? “I don’t know.” She shoves the card into her pocket and walks away from JJ. 

It’s days later, when they find themselves caught in JJ’s kitchen that the thought of it comes up again. Emily’s mouth, ever the quicker thinker than her actual brain, is moving circles around JJ’s skin. 

“Em,” JJ’s head rolls back, reminding her of the rule. Right; no marks on JJ. JJ wasn’t someone that Emily got to keep, but rather share. Emily buries her feelings down again but when she gets home she dials the number. 

#

Her first name is Blake and while Emily knew it wasn’t fair to compare, she was everything JJ wasn’t. She showed up in a muted blue that complimented her tan skin. Her wit was sharp, but firm, similar to the italian cobblestones Emily learned how to bike on. She enjoyed telling Emily about her family, something JJ never seemed to want to bring up. It really made Emily re-evaluate her weekend decisions. How good can something really be if you are comparing the breakdown and trying to make up points all for the sake of winning? 

Then Emily returns to her guilt. Poor Blake. Emily is sitting across the table, sulking miles away, while her date is right there. 

“You know, I almost didn’t think you were going to call.” 

Emily swirls her wine in the glass. “Oh? And why’s that?” 

“Well, I was almost certain you and that blonde coworker of yours were dating. Jareau was it?”

She stops spinning. “What? Wh-why would you think that?” Emily is trying so very hard to keep her blinking rate to a minimum. 

Blake shrugs. “The way she looks and acts around you. Like she loves you. You really never dated?”

The words remain bitter as they leave her mouth. “Nope, never dated.” 

When Emily gets home that night, after a lovely evening, and after Blake asks her on a second date (she agrees), Emily’s head can’t stop spinning. Blake had to have gotten it wrong. JJ didn’t love her. If JJ loved her, she would stop seeing Will. She would have never _begun_ seeing Will. 

The following weekend when the second date arrives, JJ messages Emily to come over. Fuck. How could she mix up her weekends? This leaves Emily with a decision. Someone who maybe doesn’t love her or someone who maybe could? As much as Emily hates herself for it, it’s not even a question. She apologizes deeply to Blake for the abrupt cancellation and makes her way over to JJ’s. 

#

It’s in New York when her stomach is back to doing flips. It’s a terrorism case and the only light points are gossiping jokes over Hotch and Joyner’s potentialled affair. The gymnastics begins when Hotch decides it's time for the team to go home for the night and they are all greeted by Will in the lobby. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t bear waiting.” His insufferable accent drawls on. “I was just worried about the baby.” 

“Will!” JJ scolds him, her voice tight. Emily seems to be the only one to notice how JJ avoids her eyesight as her hand flies to her stomach. 

Under any other circumstances Emily would be overjoyed. A baby! JJ is having a baby! She and Emily had the topic of children and motherhood discussed between them a few times before, remarking on how they could see the other as a loving mother. JJ’s comment meant the most to Emily, as she was always afraid of being her mother. 

But this, this was different. She never imagined the circumstances to be this. JJ was not just having any baby, but _Will’s_ baby. 

Emily walked forward. “Congratulations, JJ! I’m so happy for you.” Emily gave JJ a practiced smile as she hugged her in regards. It was all too much for Emily, all the glitter and smoke. Quickly she let go and excused herself to her room. 

Everything was all wrong and she felt like an idiotic fool. There was never any love, and Will was never meant to be a sideshow. It finally all added up. The frequent flying, Emily not being allowed to call when JJ was out of town, the unexplainable hickies every now and then. What main attraction knew about the sideshow? Emily needed to throw up, or a drink. 

There was a knock at Emily’s door. It was unclear to her on who to expect so she opened it up a sliver. She wished she checked the peephole first. It was JJ. She had no choice but to let her in. 

“What do you want.” Emily said, walking away from the door. 

“Emily, please.” JJ quickly shut the door behind her. “I’m-”

“What? Sorry? Hm, no.”

“What do you want me to say?” Silence. “Are you mad I didn’t tell you about the baby?” 

“Yes. No. I don’t know!” Emily was being truthful. She couldn’t place a name to her anger this time. What was she angry about? Will? That was there before. JJ not choosing her? That was there before. JJ keeping secrets? None of this was new. 

JJ sighed sadly. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I-“ Emily cut herself off. _No_. It would be selfish to say it now. 

“Say it.” 

“I wanted you to choose me.” Emily’s voice comes out breathless. 

“You had to know at some point that wasn’t going to happen.” 

“Why not?” 

“What would we be? Sex and then work?”

Emily breathes out. “Is that all you see? What happened to Sunday takeout dinners and walking along our favorite hiking trail once a month?”

“I want to build a family someday, Em.” 

“You were my family, JJ!” Emily sees the woman before her gasp quietly. Emily gulps. “JJ, I am in love with you.” JJ’s mouth falls open. Emily can’t believe it either, but it's out in the opening, so there was no use backing down now. “I realized it when you assembled my coffee maker. I’m no Reid but I can tell you the exact date. August 23rd.” 

“I wanted all my weekends with you. I wanted to see you wake up in the morning except it’s every morning and I don’t have to worry about time running out. I wanted to hold your hand as we stroll along town. But then he got a defining moment. _My_ defining moment. I’m stuck watching every step of it. It ruined me.” 

JJ let Emily’s confession hang in the air. “I- I didn't know. You could have always stopped.” 

Emily shook her head. “You don’t get it. For you, I would have ruined myself a billion times over.” 

JJ falls quiet. Emily is crying before her and JJ is quiet. In fact, she is at a loss for words. Not that the ones she had were doing her much service anyways. 

After waiting forever, JJ swallows what is left and squeaks out an “I’m sorry,” and leaves out the door. 

The next weekend after the case closes, Emily resigns from the BAU. There's a higher paying position available for her at Interpol and she can’t stay after all that transpired. When does the joyful memories turn sour? When does shared laughter and morning coffee and silken sheets become a memory even the owner can’t recognize? Then again, does it really count as losing if you could never call it yours in the first place? 

Emily remains uncertain. 


End file.
